Waiting For Superman
by Todd-the-Foxx
Summary: Castial Novak, local librarian, has always dreamed of finding a hero and falling in love, but he never could have guessed who it'd be. This story follows him and Dean through a modern story of love, lust, and loss. Their eyes meet and sparks ignite, but will their love blaze brightly, or burn them out? *WARNING: M/M, smut scenes in future chapters*


**Author's Note: rated M for Might wanna keep parental figures from seeing this. Contains M/M relationship/sex, some vulgar language, and more stuff I haven't decided yet. Don't like, don't read**

**Based on the song Waiting For Superman by Daughtry (I recommend you listen to it before/while reading) **

**You're about to embark on a journey of wild romance and unforeseen tragedy, so strap in! You've involuntarily signed up for one hell of a feels trip.**

Neon lights flashed and swirled across the dance floor, illuminating the black tile in a kaleidoscope of color. Dancers packed the floor, swaying and bobbing and bouncing to the rapid beat of the music. A few stragglers lounged at tables pressed against the wall, a combination of dark leather booths and glass tabletops adorned with candles flickering behind ruby, sapphire, and emerald glass. At one of these tables sat Castiel Novak, a local librarian unfamiliar with the party scene. Needless to say, he was no commoner for this type of social setting. In fact, he was rather uncomfortable in the night club with all of his senses assaulted. Lights flared, music blared, and sweat permeated the air. Right about now he desperately wanted to be back in his apartment, curled up with a good book and a steaming cup of hot coco.

"Aw, come on Cas, relax a little. You're here to have fun!" a lively redhead smiled from across the table, gently shaking his shoulder. Castiel looked up from the napkin held between his hands, fidgeting with it. The redhead, Anna, was the reason he was even here in the first place.

"This is far from my definition of fun," he muttered, twisting and flattening the crumpled napkin again and again. Why did he always let Anna drag him to her nights clubs and bars when he'd much rather be at home or in the library surrounded by old friends with aged leather spines and words written in a tongue long lost?

"Your definition of fun is hanging around a bunch of old books no one cares about. You've got to live a little Cas!" Anna nudged him with her knee under the table.

"Besides," Jess' perfectly painted mouth broke into a wry smile. "I hear Sam's bringing his brother along..."

Castiel looked up from the napkin shreds piled in front of him. Jess, someone Cas didn't know, was Anna's friend, and was dating a law student named Sam Winchester, someone else he didn't know. And apparently Sam had a brother, someone Cas knew even less and personally didn't care too much about. He tilted his head, squinting like he usually did when he was confused or extremely focused. "So?"

"Well, I hear his brother plays for the other team, if you know what I mean," Jess winked at Castiel. He could feel his cheeks heating in the dim light, spreading up towards the tops of his ears. He shrugged, dropping his eyes back to the pile of confetti accumulating in front of him. Anna rolled her eyes, mentally labeling Castiel a hopeless cause and redirected the conversation. As the two girls chatted about upcoming events and who's who among celebrities, Cas let his mind wander to a familiar fantasy.

He was watching the crowd, waiting for someone. Someone he'd never met, but their eyes would meet and his heart would flutter and he'd just _know_. Then, this mystery person, someone tall and ruggedly handsome, would saunter over to Castiel. He'd lock eyes with the man who'd come to save him, rescue him from his average life and take him on grand adventures intertwined with a romance unparalleled to any book he'd ever read. This mystery man would be his hero. His very own Superman. What would he say to him? Would he have to say anything at all? Would body language be enough? Or would his hero speak first? Hopefully he would because Cas honestly never knew how to respond in intense and intimate situations. Castiel imagined multiple scenes playing out in various ways.

Castiel was so enraptured with his own personal fairytale that he didn't notice the six foot four hulk of a man appear at their table.

"Sammy!" Jess squealed, jumping up to wrap her slender arms around his neck. Sam was much taller than her and had to bend down to kiss her, smiling. Jess, never letting go of her hold on Sam, introduced the rest of them.

"Nice to meet you," Sam smiled, extending his hand towards Cas. Castiel shook his hand, noting the strong grip, and gave him a curt, friendly nod. Sam was tall, tan, and muscular with hair that swept at his shoulders, framing his face. He had chocolate brown eyes that crinkled in the corners when he smiled. Cas dismissed him as a potential partner. He was cute, but not Castiel's type, and obviously straight.

"Sam, where's Dean?" Anna asked, trying to peer around Sam's massive stature. Castiel could only assume that Dean was Sam's supposedly gay brother.

"Just walked in. See? Right there," Sam pointed towards the entrance and all eyes followed his finger. Cas squinted in the low light, trying to get a better view of the approaching stranger but could only catch glimpses of a leather jacket. Anna once again nudged him under the table.

"C'mon Sam, let's go dance." Jess looked up at him from under her lashes, tugging him by the wrist towards the congested dance floor. Sam obliged.

"Hey Dean, wanna dance?" Sam yelled over the roar of the music. Castiel still couldn't see this Dean, but Anna could.

"Nah, dancing just isn't my thing," a rough voice answered, and, without even having seen this stranger, Castiel was instantly enticed by that voice. Anna smiled her mischievous smile, sliding out of the booth. She leaned over to whisper in Cas' ear, her red hair a curtain on his shoulder as he inhaled her perfume.

"I'll leave you two to talk," she whispered, winking at him one more time before disappearing in the mass of arms and legs and writhing bodies. Castiel glared at her for as long as she was visible, momentarily ignoring the man who'd just sat across from him. But then he looked.

His eyes first fell on the well-worn leather jacket, slowly migrating up towards the broad shoulders, then the hard jaw line covered with stubble, and up the smooth, tanned skin before meeting his eyes. Suddenly, Cas forgot how to breathe.

"Name's Dean. Dean Winchester." He flashed a smile, the kind of smile that disappeared as quickly as it arrived, and if you blinked you'd miss it.

"Castiel Novak," Cas replied. He couldn't help but notice the way Dean's eyes danced in the flickering glow of candlelight.

"Castiel? Unique name," Dean drawled, his eyebrows arching. Damn, he was attractive.

"Yea, my dad chose it." Castiel tried for a small smile. Dean smiled back.

"You don't seem like the dancing type to me. So what do you do?" Dean quickly raked his gaze over the room, an entire night club full of people that Cas had forgotten about. Castiel should've thought of something witty and alluring to say, something that would intrigue Dean, but his mind went blank. Instead, he arched his eyebrows, lips pulling into a thin line. Dean quickly glanced at his lips, wondering for a moment what they'd feel like against his own. "You know, your job. Where you work?"

"Ah, I work at the library," Castiel answered, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment and lowering his eyes to the tabletop.

"So a bookworm, right? A lot like Sammy. You know, he's one of the smartest kids I know. Might even graduate top of his class." Dean's entire face lit up when he talked about Sam. He leaned back, throwing his arms across the booth. It was obvious he was very proud of his little brother.

"Yea, guess you could call me that. What about you?" Cas leaned forward to hear Dean over the thundering music with its fast and heavy beat. Dean said something but his words were snatched away in the uproar. "Hm?"

"Firefighter." Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He was so close, only a few inches away. Castiel couldn't help but stare, memorizing every detail. The smell of his cologne. The light shadow of stubble against his jaw. The curve of his lips. The beautiful, unforgettable green of his eyes. No man had ever made Cas feel like this before. His heart was hammering away in his chest as butterflies brushed their wings against the walls of his stomach. He wanted to stay there, captured in Dean's eyes, like a photograph or a preserved memory you never wanted to forget. "Uh, you okay?"

Castiel forgot that staring was rude. And weird.

"Oh, uh, yeah. So, firefighting? Sounds dangerous." He tried desperately to redirect attention away from his awkwardness. His palms began to sweat.

"Yeah, I like it. Get to help people, save lives." Dean glowed with pride. Helping people, saving lives. He was a hero. Maybe he was the hero Cas had been waiting for. Dean leaned in closer, his knee brushing Cas' and sending an electric shock straight to his heart. "It's pretty loud in here, and I'm not much of a dancer. Wanna step outside?" Dean asked. Cas could feel Dean's breath against his skin sending shivers down his spine. Suddenly, his throat was parched and his heart pounding, threatening to break through his ribs. Cas eagerly nodded, all words seemed lodged in a tangle of knotted vocal cords. Dean smiled again, sliding out of the booth and sauntering off towards the door. Cas looked for Anna or Jess or even Sam, but they were swallowed in the writhing mass of humans. Oh well.

Outside city lights lit up the night. Castiel liked this city, this metropolis that never slept, where you could feel life humming in the air and in everything and everyone. Here he could watch the world turn from an outsider's perspective. Castiel was always fascinated with the cars that passed, carrying people with lives and thoughts and dreams different from his own that he would never know, nor would they know his thoughts and dreams. Like how he was almost giddy with the hope that an attractive man like Dean Winchester would single him out as a potential partner. Or how his stomach turned with fear at the thought of Dean never even giving him a second glance. No, no one who passed would ever suspect that these two men could be nurturing a budding attraction towards one another. They simply looked the other way, absorbed in their own minds.

"Kind of cold out tonight," Castiel remarked, wrapping his arms around himself and wishing he would have had the sense to bring a coat, but no he listened to Anna instead. Trench coats aren't cool she said. You're not even going to need a jacket she said. Well, she was wrong.

"Nah, this old thing keep me pretty warm." Dean smoothed down his leather jacket. It did look pretty warm, or was it just the person wearing it?

"Looks like you've got brawn _and_ brains," Castiel muttered, hugging himself tighter. Dean watched Cas shiver out the side of his eyes. God, he was cute. Not cute in a pouting puppy kind of way, but cute like the _I want to tie you down and strip your clothes off _kind of cute. Dean could dig it.

Suddenly Castiel was shielded from the cold as weight fell onto his shoulders. The smell of worn leather and musty cologne cascaded around him, holding him tight in a warm, comforting embrace. Dean threw his jacket around Castiel's shoulders.

"Thanks," Castiel nodded, shimmying his arms into the jacket. It was too big on him, and the sleeves went almost to his fingertips, but it was nice. Cas bit back the smile playing at his lips.

"You looked cold," Dean observed. "So, come here often?"

Castiel actually laughed at his cheesy pickup line, figuring Dean could do a lot better. It was a light, airy laugh that made Dean want to hear more of it. "No, not really. Anna made me tag along."

"Ah, the redhead. She's a looker," Dean grinned and Cas felt a pang of jealousy. He didn't even really know this man but the thought that he might be thinking of someone else made his heart ache in an indescribable way.

"Yeah, I guess she is."

"Didn't notice her too much though. Got a little distracted." Cas' interest was piqued.

"Oh? By what?" he asked, toying with the hem of Dean's jacket.

"Well, there was this guy sitting across from her," Dean smirked, looking down at Cas through the corner of his eyes.

"And what made him stand out?" Cas smiled, playing along.

"Personally, I thought he was the most attractive guy in there. Had this real intense look about him, like he was really trying hard to focus on something," Dean moved closer, brushing up against Cas. "Kind of wished he'd look at me like that."

Cas glanced up at him, tilting his head and squinting his eyes. He could feel where their elbows connected, leather on plaid. Castiel could feel his face flush and hoped the cold covered it up. His heartbeat was a distant sound drumming in his ears. "Like this?"

"Yeah, like that," Dean smiled tenderly. "Anyone ever tell you you have beautiful eyes?"

"You like my eyes?" Cas blushed deeper, tugging at the sleeves of his jacket.

"Your eyes, your voice, the way your lips press into a line when you think. You're a pretty big turn on Cas," he smiled and Castiel blushed. Dean's eyes wandered Cas' face, drinking in every minuscule detail. He liked everything, but what he liked best were his eyes. They were like tempest clouds reflected on an unsettled ocean, deep blue waves rolling with subtle hints of grey that could swallow you whole or keep you afloat. Like the sea they were vast, even endless, and Dean wondered what unseen marvels could be found in their depths, a depth he was willing to dive into and drown in if necessary. Castiel didn't know what to say. He couldn't seem to form even the simplest of sentences in his mind. He was running on pure emotion, reaching out without words and speaking to Dean in a language only the two of them would understand. He felt himself falling into those vivid green eyes, getting lost in a forest of spring green leaves radiating with life and laughter. He felt like he was losing part of himself, but at the same time like he was gaining the world.

Castiel wanted to run his hands over Dean's body, feel every curve and outline every muscle. He wanted to glide his hands through his short hair and wrap his arms around him and drink in his scent. He wanted Dean, and Dean seemed to understand.

"I want to kiss you," Dean thought out loud. Castiel swallowed, nodding along. He felt a hand slither around his waist, pulling him flush against the taller man. Dean leaned down, chastely brushing his lips against Cas', simply testing the waters. It was easily the best kiss Cas had ever had and he was eager for more. Dean pulled away, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Cas wanted—no, needed—more. He wound his arms around Dean's neck, sliding his fingers through the fine hairs on the back of his head. Dean shifted, pressing Cas against the wall and leaning his body in, pinning Castiel. "Boy, aren't you eager," he grinned.

"Shut up," Cas growled, pulling Dean back down and capturing his lips with his own. Dean ran his hands up and down Castiel's sides causing him to shiver. Their burning bodies pressed against each other, fighting off the night's chill. Dean found the end of Castiel's shirt and snaked his hands inside.

"Your hands are cold," Cas gasped.

"Sorry, someone took my coat," Dean apologized, nipping lightly at Cas' bottom lip. Their tongues clashed and explored unfamiliar territory as their hands ravished over clothed skin. Castiel reveled in the feel of Dean. The feel of him, his smell, and oh god, his taste. It was perfect. He was high on Dean, drifting in ecstasy as he drank in the taller man's essence. Blunt nails clawed at Cas' sides and he arched his back, desperate to feel more. Dean traveled over Castiel's jawline and lingered at his neck, leaving a trail of kisses and licks.

"Dean…" Cas breathed, eyes shut as he leaned back against the rough cement wall.

"Damn, you're hot," Dean murmured against his skin, sucking softly at Castiel's collarbone and driving the docile man crazy in a fever of lust and desire. Cas clutched at Dean's broad shoulders, pushing their bodies together, sharing warmth and breath. Dean brought his attention back to Cas' neglected lips, earning small moans and grunts as he tugged at ruffled clumps of dark hair. This was perfection, Cas thought.

But even perfect moments couldn't last forever.

Vibrations pulsed from Dean's pocket. He cursed, pulling out his cellphone to read the text. "Shit, I'm needed at the station." Cas frowned at the message. How could one little sentence be enough to pull them apart when they'd just come together? He didn't want to let go, and he could tell by the way Dean buried his face in his neck that he didn't want to either.

"Do you have to leave?" Cas panted, looking up at Dean through his lashes.

"Yeah," he sighed, caressing the side of Cas' face. Castiel leaned into the touch. Unwillingly, Dean finally untangled himself from Castiel, linking their fingers together. Castiel's spirits fell. Out of all the scenarios he lived through in his mind about meeting someone like Dean, never did he think they'd leave so soon. "Hey, no need to frown. This isn't goodbye."

"It's not?"

"'Course not," Dean leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. "You'll see me again. I want to know everything about you Cas," he whispered.

"Yeah," Cas exhaled, his brain short circuiting once more. Dean smiled, handing Castiel his cellphone.

"Here, put your number in." Cas did as he was told. "I'll call you. Tell Sam to ride home with Jess. I'm taking the car."

Dean began to walk away, striding with confidence. His smell still lingered in the air, and Castiel was unusually warm without the close contact.

"Oh, wait! Here, you forgot your jacket." Castiel shook it off and gave it back, already missing its warmth. Dean grabbed his wrist and pulled him in for one more kiss goodbye.

"What're you doing next weekend?" Dean asked.

"Nothing I suppose." Castiel answered.

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna take you on a date." Dean winked, sauntering off towards the parking lot. Castiel watched him go, and stood there even when Dean was out of sight. He replayed everything that had happened in his mind over and over again, afraid of forgetting even the smallest of details. It was like living a scene straight from a movie or a dream. It really happened, but had an unreal quality about it that made you question your sanity. If this was all a dream then Castiel never wanted to wake up.

Once the cold became too much to handle he left, smiling like a love struck school girl. Dean was off to save the day. He was a hero. But more importantly, he was _his _hero.


End file.
